


The Prince's Man

by wrennette



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Power, Dark!Arthur, M/M, Rape, Roughness, Sexual Abuse, all the bad things, archiving old words, forced fellatio, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has always gotten what he wanted. <b>Non-con. <i>WARNING!</i> You guys, I'm serious. This depicts graphic non consensual sex. If this may in any way make you uncomfortable, DO NOT READ!</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's Man

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving from LJ. Originally posted 2008. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Merlin is the property of the BBC and Shine. The author in no way profits from writing this fiction, nor does the author condone or encourage the actions depicted.

"They say you are my catamite," Arthur reported softly, and Merlin held himself as still as possible, nose wrinkling distastefully as he caught the sour scent of too much wine on the Prince's breath. He opened his mouth to refute the rumour, which he had heard as well, but then Arthur was pressed against his back, warm and firm, and Merlin could feel Arthur's arousal pressing against his ass. That kept him silent, surprise stealing the words from his mouth. Arthur's hand cupped his groin roughly, and Merlin clenched his jaw as his balls were crushed to his thigh beneath the heel of Arthur's wide palm. 

"As if I couldn't get a woman if I wanted one," Arthur continued, and Merlin could hear the edge of disgust in his voice. Merlin shivered slightly as Arthur withdrew from him. 

"Will that be all tonight?" he asked in a small voice, hating the tremour that betrayed his uncertainty. Arthur came around him, looked at him like he were a side of mutton. 

"No," the Prince said simply, and Merlin swallowed thickly.

"Don't do this," Merlin whispered softly as Arthur's fingers closed firmly about his slender wrist, and Arthur sneered. 

"I'll do as I damn well please," Arthur said, chin raised defiantly, as if daring Merlin to protest. Merlin just nodded though, already defeated. They had come so far since he first became Arthur's manservant; he had thought they had become something like friends. He knew they couldn't be real friends, not really, not unless he were a Freedman, able to come and go from court on his own prerogative. But he had thought - Merlin choked back a semi-hysterical sob as Arthur shoved him over the heavy dining table. That was the trouble. He had thought. 

Arthur was clumsy with drink, but his fingers worked well enough to tear the flimsy fabric of Merlin's trousers. With sudden clarity the fullness of what was about to happen struck Merlin. He was a serf, but he wasn't the idiot Arthur thought him; he knew how things worked. But denial was a strong thing. He had never thought this would be him. He had never thought anyone would dare. After all, he was the Crown Prince of Camelot's personal manservant. Of course, that didn't much protect him against the Prince himself. He pushed himself away from the table hurriedly, but Arthur quickly grabbed him, shoved him back. Merlin struggled, desperation giving him strength. But it wasn't nearly enough strength to break Arthur's grasp. Merlin winced and gasped as the small bones of his wrist were ground together and his arm was wrenched. 

"Arthur," Merlin all but whimpered, but Arthur just shoved him down harder, twisted his arm more cruelly. "Sire," he pleaded more insistently, but Arthur's other hand was already cupping the globe of his ass, Arthur's thumb resting against the tight pucker of his entrance. Merlin keened softly as the torsion on his arm forced him to bend at the waist and lift his hips, the side of his face smashing cruelly against the smooth wood of the table. "I don't want to hurt you Merlin," Arthur said almost gently, and Merlin would have snorted with laughter if he weren't so terrified. 

The tip of Arthur's thumb pressed into him, and Merlin clenched his jaw against a whimper of pain. It welled up anyway, tearing out of his chest like a sob. Arthur hooked his thumb, sort of pulled to one side, and Merlin writhed in pain, trying futilely to escape. Arthur's hand pulled away, and for a moment Merlin thought he had gained a reprieve, but then Arthur's hand was back, this time smacking sharply off his ass, making him yelp and jump. The shock of Arthur striking him kept Merlin from fighting when the Prince's thumb again pressed against his hole. 

Arthur's preparation was perfunctory at best, and Merlin bit his lip bloody as the slick head of Arthur's cock was forced into him. Distantly he could feel his heart racing with fear, his breath hitching and catching awkwardly. Distantly he could feel the pain in his lip and taste the blood in his mouth. But everything else paled in comparison to the burning, tearing pain of Arthur forcibly entering him. He whimpered softly, and Arthur groaned, a disconcertingly pleasure filled sound. 

"Fuck, you're tight," Arthur said, and his tone was appreciative, and Merlin couldn't contain the sob that tore out of him. "Shut up," Arthur hissed, mercurial temper shifting from self satisfied to pissed off in the blink of an eye. Merlin tried to obey, too scared to be defiant, but he couldn't quite manage silence. Another sob tore free, and Arthur's hand was rough in his hair, grabbing hold and twisting his head up, then slamming him back down again, his cheek impacting painfully with the heavy table. He bit his lip, trying his hardest not to cry out, but it didn't quite work, and Arthur again lifted his head, again slammed his face into the table. 

"You will do as you're fucking told," Arthur hissed, spreading his hand between Merlin's shoulder blades, holding him to the table, and then Merlin forced his brain to disconnect with reality, because the pain of Arthur's cock moving inside him was unbearable.

Arthur put all his strength behind every brutal thrust, using the slack body of his manservant as if it were his God given right. He came with a strangled gasp, orgasm clearing his head only slightly. Merlin whimpered as he was left empty, and feeling slowly began to seep back in. He could feel the wet heat of Arthur's seed oozing down the backs of his thighs, smell the iron tang of blood and the heavy musk of Arthur's release. With a soft whimper Merlin slumped to the floor, legs giving way. 

"Oh get up," Arthur said shortly, grabbing at Merlin's arm and jerking him to his feet. "Clean up your mess," Arthur said, nose wrinkling as he took in the smears of come and blood on Merlin's pale skin, the purple mess of his bruised face. "I won't have you reflecting poorly on me." Merlin ducked his head, silent tears cutting clear tracks down his blooded face. Carefully he hitched up his torn trousers and smoothed down his rucked up tunic. 

"Attend to me," Arthur ordered, and Merlin nodded again, stumbling away to the alcove on autopilot. When he returned, Arthur was sprawling half asleep by the fire, cock still wet and red with Merlin's blood. Merlin choked his hysteria back ruthlessly, hands fumbling with the water and cloth. He shifted nervously, and Arthur looked up lazily, one eyebrow rising imperiously. Merlin opened his mouth, not quite sure what to say, and Arthur's face hardened into a mask of icy disgust. 

"You bring this on yourself," Arthur growled. "Acting above your station." Merlin snapped his mouth closed, wincing as his bruised face throbbed. "Get this fucking mess cleaned up," Arthur hissed, gesturing at his groin, and Merlin eased closer, afraid he would be struck. As soon as he was within arms reach, Arthur grabbed him, hauled him close and forced him to his knees. "Use your mouth," Arthur ordered, a vicious little smirk on his full lips, and when Merlin hesitated, it earned him a blow to the face so hard it sent him reeling to the floor. Arthur hauled Merlin back upright, one hand rough in the servant's hair, the other cupping his own balls. 

"Lick up your mess," Arthur ordered, enunciating each word distinctly, and although all Merlin wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die, he opened his mouth and tentatively flicked his tongue out, lapping at Arthur's flaccid cock. Arthur smiled and patted his head as if he were a particularly smart dog, and Merlin could feel his split lip stretch painfully as he opened his mouth wider to accomplish his demeaning task. Arthur's hand came down, and the gentle caress of Arthur's fingers against his swollen cheek was enough to start Merlin crying again. A soft groan eased from Arthur's mouth, a slow, sated sound, and then his hand firmed around Merlin's tender, bruised, cheek, held his head in place. Merlin gagged as Arthur's cock forced its way into his mouth, and then Arthur was moving him, using both hands to direct the motion of Merlin's mouth. 

Spit dribbled down Merlin's chin, and his face throbbed with pain in time with his pulse. Arthur reeked of blood and sex, the pungent scent of sweat condensed in the golden hair at the root of his cock. Merlin whimpered as Arthur's cock thickened and hardened in his mouth, and Arthur groaned again, beginning to undulate his hips. Soon Merlin was choking and gagging with each deep, painful thrust, the head of Arthur's cock scraping against the back of his throat, the girth of it stretching his bloody lips and straining his bruised jaw. One of Arthur's hands pulled at his hair, dictating the tempo and depth of his motions, the other hand circling the base of his throat, the gentleness of the touch no real disguise for the fact that Arthur could and would strangle his servant without second thought if he were disobeyed. 

It seemed to Merlin that this lasted even longer, his vision spotting at times when he couldn't breathe quite right. Finally Arthur sighed softly, his cock twitching between Merlin's lips, and Merlin swallowed, because there was no other choice, not with Arthur's cock so deep in his mouth he didn't even taste the Prince's seed. Collapsing back into his chair, Arthur smiled gently, ruffling Merlin's fringe. 

"Wake me before dawn," Arthur ordered, still smiling. "I feel like going for a ride. That will be all for tonight." Merlin nodded, then went perfectly still as Arthur tenderly wiped away the tear tracks on his cheeks. "You really shouldn't tempt me like that Merlin," Arthur said softly. "You're lucky I heard about this before my father did. He would have had you flogged if he suspected you were trying to seduce me." Merlin said nothing, held perfectly still. "That will be all," Arthur sighed, gently pushing Merlin away, and Merlin swayed, then stumbled to his feet. His arm hung more or less useless at his side, throbbing with pain, his every motion sending frissons of agony shooting up his spine. He bowed awkwardly, then slipped as normally as possible from the Prince's chambers. 

Once in the hall, Merlin broke into a terrified sprint, pelting through the still corridors until he reached Gaius' chambers. He tried to ease in without disturbing the physician, but Gaius was still up, puttering with some potion or another. Gaius looked up with a fond expression, a kind rebuke on the tip of his tongue, but went still and silent when he saw the state of his apprentice. 

"Merlin," Gaius breathed, and the boy collapsed into his arms, sobbing incoherently, clinging to him like a child. "Who did this," Gaius asked, gently taking Merlin's chin in his hand, looking over the damage to the warlock's face. Merlin let out another hitching sob, this one dancing on the edge of hysteria, and Gaius knew. He knew, and he knew that nothing could be done. Because Arthur wanted, and what Arthur wanted, Arthur got, no matter who was hurt in the process. He tilted his chin up to hide his own tears, and pulled Merlin close again, hating himself, his King, his Prince, and the whole damn world for what had been done to the boy he had come to care for as his own son.


End file.
